Scarlett: Nothing is as it seems
by Lill1000
Summary: Sherlock is back! After resurrecting his life and society status he is... bored. No cases for him for a long time. But just as his friends thought it couldn't get worse a girl appears. Scarlett. She wants him to find her father, although she already knows who he is. She has also some information Sherlock could be interested in. Who is that girl and what has she planned? After RBF.


**Hey guys! I won't say much now. Only:**

**English is not my first language, so be kind to me. But if you find any mistakes regarding grammar or the spelling, please inform me and I will correct as soon as I can.**

**Second:**

**BBC Sherlock doesn't belong to me, only the plot does.**

**And:**

**Enjoy!**

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It was a normal night at 221B Baker Street. You could hear the sirens of the ambulances and police, some dogs howling and a violin. One very mistuned violin play.

John Watson sat on the sofa, laptop in his lap, writing furiously and trying to drone out the music. The source of the music was Sherlock Holmes. One very bored Sherlock Holmes at that. Since him coming back alive and Morarity's network finally brought down there wasn't any case, which could have occupied the detective longer than an hour or so. John's eardrums weren't exactly happy that he was back, but the doctor was. With an amused smile he thought back to that really weirdest moment in his life.

_Flashback_

_It was a nice and quiet day at 221B and John and Mrs Hudson invited Greg and Molly to come over and have tea or coffee. They were sharing funny memories of the consulting detective they missed so much as footsteps were heard on the staircase. Everyone shared a look. Who would be coming? Mycroft was just once there after Sherlock's 'death' and John wasn't into solving cases anymore._

_Suddenly the door was opened and bounced against the wall. The person entered and steered right to the kitchen. There he got a cup, filled it with coffee and two black sugars, made his way over to the astounded and shocked audience. He got comfortable in Sherlock's seat and took a big gulp of the hot liquid. The for people in the room stared at him as if they had seen a ghost. Except Molly._

_She was shocked, because she never believed to see the raven-haired man again, together with her friends, who she had to lie to over two and a half years._

_Sherlock looked up from his cup and stared at the expressions of his friends (and housekeeper). "What?" he asked perplexed. "It's me! Your friend! Sherlock! The one and only consulting detective of the world. Remember? The one who fought against Morarity." John just blinked. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "The one who jumped from the roof of St. Barts?... Oh…" Realization hit him. Yeah it was quite shocking._

_End Flashback_

In afterthought, it was quite amusing, when not chaotic, but after some slaps from Molly and Mrs Hudson, a black eye from Lestrade and a broken nose from John, everything was at peace again. Almost. After resurrecting his life and status in society and helping Molly not losing her job (Mycroft helped a great deal, even if Sherlock would never admit that) they got a problem. No cases. And no cases meant a bored Sherlock, which resulted in John nearly ripping his ears out right now.

While Sherlock played his violin and John typed at his laptop, they did not notice the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs. Then there was a knock. Sherlock stopped his playing and answered with an "Enter" John sighed in relief.

The door opened and there standing was a girl. She was small, barely 1.55 m (nearly 5'1 ft). She had brown, shoulder-length hair and blue eyes. Nothing extraordinary. She wore a beige coat and had some folders in her left hand. She walked in the room and sat on the sofa. "Good evening Mr Holmes, Dr Watson." She nodded her head to the respective persons. "My name is Scarlett Ytirairom and I need your help." Her young voice was soft but strong. Sherlock sat down, suspicious of this girl. He deduced her the moment she entered. Slightly dishevelled hair, signs of stress. Wide open eyes, she was slightly afraid. Her coat was wrinkled but her nails perfect manicured. She was in hurry to get here, because otherwise she would never have let her coat wrinkle like that. And she was nervous, according the hand, which trembled lightly and gripped the folder tighter.

"Go on. With what can we help you?" asked John in a gentle and soothing voice, trying in futile attempt to calm the child down. Scarlett took a deep breath and smiled at the doctor. "You have to help me. Find out who my father is and where he is. Please, it is very important." She said. "How old are you?" the detective asked. "15" "And you want us to find your father?" She nodded. "Why should we? That case would be boring. If you don't know your father, he is probably dead or doesn't want to do anything with you." _"Sherlock!"_ John hissed, but the girl only chuckled. Bothe men looked at her surprised, even Sherlock had not expected this reaction. Scarlett took an apple out of the bowl, which was standing on the small sofa table. She retrieved a marker out of her coat and draw a smiley on the fruit. "Drawing calms me down" she explained as she turned the apple to show her smiley and draw on the backside. The ex-soldier and the Consulting detective looked confused at her strange antics. "But it is all right Dr Watson. I expected this reaction, so I insured myself." "What?" The doctor asked now totally lost.

Scarlett chuckled again. "I have some information Mr Holmes would be highly interested in, but if he wants to refuse the case, then…" She was putting her things away, apple holding in her left hand. She was standing up and wanted to go as a baritone-voice asked her. "What information would that be, Ms Ytirairom?" The girl turned on her heel and smirked. "Oh, just about a person you know. Maybe you don't even want the information at all." "What person?" he gritted out. Scarlett approached him and leaned down so they were eye-level. John watched all this with a wary look. "If I tell you now, you would have most of the information you need. So we do not want to risk that right?" She smirked again and got up. She bit into her apple once and laid it with the bite mark face down on top of the apples. She went to the door but stopped just in front of it. "If you suddenly change your mind and get interested, there is my phone number in the folder together with some starting points you will need when you seek my father. By the way, I already know who and where my father is, but I want you to reassure me." With that she left.

The men stared at the space the girl just was moments before. John shook his head. "Strange girl." He muttered as he took the cups an took them to the kitchen. "Why wants she you to search her father, if she already knows where he is?"

"I don't know."

"And what did she mean by _interesting information_?"

"I. don't. know." Sherlock gritted.

"And what did she mean by _a person you would be highly interested in_?"

"_I. DON'T. KNOW!" _Sherlock spit.

The doctor, finally realizing the angered state his friend was in, looked at him funny. "Calm down, Sherlock. No reason to get loud. OH, and look at _that!_ She could have at least put the apple with the bite face _upside_ instead of smearing her salvia on the other apples." He complained. Sherlock ignored him, but looked up, when he had not heard a single word from his friend for the last two minutes. John looked down at the apple in his hand. His face was white with shock and fear. He got a _tiny little bit_ worried. "John?" The doctor looked up at him with wide eyes, breathing hard, hand slightly trembling. "I- I t- think I know wh- who she was talking about, Sherlock." The detective held a blank look, which slowly transformed to shock as he saw the all too familiar sign, he saw about two and a half years ago. There with the bite included were three letters. Two with a black marker and one bitten.

**I.O.U.**

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**And that's it for now! I hope you will enjoy my story and review. I am a very slow writer, so be patient with me please.**

**Have a good day! Or night.**

**LILL1000**


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